


its you, not just another mouth in lipstick

by got2ghost



Series: Let's Talk About Sex, Baby! [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crossdressing, Dom Kozume Kenma, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, Lipstick, M/M, Sub Kuroo Tetsurou, handjobs, pretty kuroo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26571823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/got2ghost/pseuds/got2ghost
Summary: kuroo wears lipstick. kenma helps him feel pretty.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: Let's Talk About Sex, Baby! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921672
Comments: 11
Kudos: 80





	its you, not just another mouth in lipstick

**Author's Note:**

> this is VERY inspired by drawings from @mookie000 and @miazuken on twitter! the drawings are [here](https://twitter.com/mookie000/status/1306482368098770949?s=20) and [here](https://twitter.com/miazuken/status/1307100803732254720)
> 
> thank u jane for beta-ing ilu!

He’s surprised by the weight of it on his lips, the way it smells, perfumed and delicate in a way he’s never experienced before. The smells most familiar to him are the boy’s locker room, his grandfather’s tobacco pipe, the same detergent his father’s used since he was five, and Kenma— which is its own unique smell that’s hard to describe other than clean skin and comfort. 

But this is something different completely. There’s no memory of it in his catalogue. Maybe it’s floral or candy— not too synthetic, but sweet and unfamiliar, and Kuroo isn’t always good with unfamiliar. 

The color is alright. Red and simple, the first tube he’d grabbed. It makes his skin look tanner than he actually is and he keeps checking his teeth in the mirror, in case it’d smudged on his teeth. It’d gotten all over his fingers when he’d first applied, so he’d washed his hands before it could mar his white dress shirt. 

The buckles sit strangely on his hips and underneath that — his neck heats up, but he tries to move past the thought of it, heart thrumming like a live wire as he finishes cleaning up the kitchen before Kenma gets home. 

He thinks about feeling like an idiot approximately 8 times, which is only 2.5 times every twenty minutes, so at least that’s not too bad.

He can hear the jingle of Kenma’s keys first and then a very long, loud sigh. Kuroo pops his head from the kitchen to see Kenma still squeezed into his tailored suit. He looks— _very_ good in it, but tired and a little stiff in the shoulders, so it makes Kuroo laugh to himself. “Welcome home,” he says and Kenma doesn’t look up. 

“Even with this over-priced suit, it feels like they don’t take me seriously. I told you it was a waste of money,” Kenma says, still struggling to untie the stiff shoelace of his oxfords. It was indeed Kuroo’s suggestion to have at least one nicely tailored suit for board meetings that may or may not have stemmed from Kuroo’s own selfishness to see Kenma dressed up.

The buckles on Kuroo’s thighs bunch when he bends at his knees to help untie them. Kenma drops his hands, still crooked at the waist, while Kuroo tugs the laces undone and loosens them until Kenma can wiggle his feet out of them.

“I’m tired,” Kenma says.

“You look good, though. You should wear it more often.”

“Needs negotiating,” Kenma says and Kuroo snorts. “You smell— different,” Kenma observes quietly before he finally looks up, eyes glinting in subtle surprise at the bright red lipstick he has on. He’d forgotten for a moment and Kuroo can feel his stomach tighten with apprehension. “Oh, it’s this,” Kenma says, reaching up, thumb settling on the corner of his mouth gently. “It smells strong. Are you getting a headache?” Kenma asks, eyes still on it.

“No, I got used to it,” Kuroo says, throat dry. 

Kenma straightens and lets Kuroo follow him up. His hand falls away from his cheek to spread across his shoulders, palms flat with his ever-cold hands. “You look so pretty,” Kenma says— which makes Kuroo even more embarrassed when he knows Kenma only says what he thinks is true. It’s subjective, isn’t it? Objectively, Kuroo’s a 6’5 fairly built man wearing a dress shirt and a belt with too many straps and lipstick. His legs aren’t shaved and the thing _underneath_ it is not made for his dick and balls at all. Pretty isn’t a word he’s ever heard to describe him.

“Ah, thanks for… thanks for— maybe this isn’t the right time,” Kuroo waves his hand and leans forward to kiss Kenma on the cheek, turning quickly so he can get away and take all of this off in the privacy of their bedroom. 

“Kuro,” Kenma says, catching his wrist in the small circle of his hand. “Wait,” he says, voice gentle and quiet, the way it is when they say goodnight and turn over to their respective sides for the night. The way it gets when he leads Kuroo through a level he can't beat, or his own demons— patient and serious. ”If you’re really not ready, then I won’t push you. But,” he gets up on his tippy toes, hooking his arm around Kuroo’s neck, his other hand cupping his jaw. “Just because I think you look pretty… doesn’t mean that much if you don’t feel pretty,” he says slowly, tilting his head. “So how do I help you feel it too?” 

His eyes are more yellow than gold in this light and Kuroo instinctively reaches up to tuck away strands that obscure his eyes.

“Just keep…,” he swallows. “Looking at me.” 

“Okay, I will,” Kenma says, mouth twisting up in a relieved, but amused, smile. He thinks that Kenma would look nice in lipstick too, so he leans forward and kisses him, just to see how much comes off in the first go.

There’s only a little red smudged just at the center of his lips and Kenma blinks, half-lidded, but something in his eyes swirls with intensity. He’s not just watching Kuroo, he’s observing him, taking him in, calculating, noting everything about Kuroo. It burns through him, just like his hand, still cold on his cheek. Kenma’s hand loops on to the top part of the belt and pulls him closer, so their hips align. “Mr. CEO, isn’t this a harassment lawsuit waiting to happen?” Kuroo says, breaking out into a lecherous grin when Kenma rolls his eyes.

“No roleplaying. I’m looking at you, so let me look,” Kenma chides, and Kuroo hears _don’t distract me, don’t try and hide._ Kenma tilts his head back, squeezing his jaw once in a quiet warning that zips down Kuroo’s spine. “Keep still.”

Kuroo does as he’s told, lets him look his fill. 

When the minute stretches too long, he realizes he’s not good at stillness, thighs clenching against the straps. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, but then Kenma sweeps his thumb, purposefully, across his bottom lip, smearing the cheap red lipstick across in one line. Kuroo’s breath shakes out. He wets his lips, eyebrow lifting in question. 

“It’s sexy, don't you think?” Kenma says, showing him his thumb before wiping it on the collar of his shirt, like he's cleaning off a kitchen knife. “Everyone at your work will think this is from your mistress, but you’ll know that’s not true. Will you wear this tomorrow?” 

“I… yes,” Kuroo flushes, cock twitching against the thin fabric of his panties. 

“They’ll never know it’s from your pretty mouth,” Kenma says, smiling in the same sleepy way he does, like he’s not saying words that are ripping through him. Kuroo drops his head to Kenma’s shoulder, careful, conscious of the red on his lips so he doesn’t get it on Kenma’s nice red vest. Kenma’s so unfair. He exhales, shakily.

“Feeling it yet?” Kenma says, fingers threading through his hair. “Don’t answer, let me,” he says, sliding his hands down Kuroo’s chest. “You don’t have to look up, as long as I get to keep looking,” Kenma’s hands slowly work the buttons on open. His hands pause and Kuroo had forgotten, in his over-thinking about the panties, that he’s in a set. The bra is hugging his chest and ribs, just simple pale white triangles of lace. Kenma untucks the shirt out of the top belt and peels the layers back to get a better look.

His eyes drop down slowly, mapping Kuroo like he can't decide where he wants to touch first. His hands hover right over his hips before he reaches forward and grips Kuroo’s half-hard cock through the panties it’s poking out from. Kuroo gasps, as Kenma grips him like he always does, but it feels so fucking different through the lace and Kuroo’s hips involuntarily follow Kenma’s hand, searching for more friction when he jerks him. He keeps going, seeming to sense that the fabric makes Kuroo less sensitive to his usual tricks. He adjusts his clever fingers and presses his thumb against the bottom of the glans, spreading the silk front of the panties right over the head until Kuroo groans. Precum wets the fabric and Kuroo shifts his hips, his cock feeling too much, too good all at once.

Another soft noise escapes him when Kenma kisses his neck, sucking lightly. He hums again and Kuroo tilts his head, his hands steadying on Kenma’s sloped shoulders. Kenma smiles, just a small, private one as his other hand skims over the fabric of the bra. Kenma plays with the strap running the length of his chest, and lets go to tease Kuroo’s nipple through the sheer lace. Kuroo jolts once and Kenma responds with a full pinch and rub, easing up when Kuroo moans. It shoots straight to his dick, which is starting to feel too slick, precum steadily being pumped out of him. His toes curl against the wood floors as Kenma picks up speed, tightening and twisting. It’s hard to think, his brain going fuzzy.

It’s just a handjob, but Kenma’s attention is so tangible and overwhelming. As he pants, Kenma sticks his fingers into his mouth, thumb pressing urgently on his lip, pinching and twisting it until Kuroo surges forward, kissing him messily between his thumb. He can’t feel the lipstick now that there’s saliva, and Kenma’s hot tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth, but he imagines that it’s a mess, smearing all over the both of their mouths.

“Okay— wait can you… sit down,” Kuroo gasps out. “I had planned out a whole thing,” his stomach trembles when Kenma strokes all the way down to the base and the panties tug on his balls. It’d been uncomfortable initially, but now that he’s turned on, it’s torturous in the way it squeezes them together. 

“Later,” Kenma promises, his voice finally strained, kissing frantically at the corner of his mouth, and then down his neck. His eyes are zeroed in on Kuroo’s lips. His toes curl again and the last thing he can bite his eyes open to see is Kenma’s mouth, streaked in pink and red.

It’s over in a second. He tenses all over, knees buckling, face pressed into his neck as he comes with his mouth open. Kenma staggers to take his weight for a moment, their lower halves brushing as he wraps his arms around Kuroo’s shoulders and holds him through his shakes. His fingers keep a constant pattern at the nape of his neck and Kuroo can feel the soft press of his lips against the curve of his ear until he gets his vision back.

When he gathers enough air in his lungs, he lifts his head. “You ruined my plans.”

“You ruined my pants,” Kenma responds, stepping away to show the streaks of white on his right thigh. 

“You can bill me,” Kuroo says, kissing Kenma’s laughing mouth, and then again for good measure, because he’s boneless and sex-stupid and in love with Kenma, who made him feel pretty, genuinely. Kenma’s lips are stained so pink and red, it looks like he’d been eating too many snowcones and it makes Kuroo grin. He doesn’t even want to know what he must look like. “I can just take care of that for you later, Kodzuken,” he says, reaching over for Kenma’s zipper.

Kenma groans and pulls away, slapping his hands. 

“I told you I’m never going to roleplay, so stop trying. I’m tired and I want to get out of this.”

Kuroo pouts, which works a marginal percent with Kenma, usually just on a slow-time release. If he does it consistently enough, maybe in a few months, it’ll pan out. Kenma seems to know this too and lets out a long, suffering sigh. 

“Go wash your mouth, you look like the Joker,” Kenma says before he brushes back his hair and heads to their room.

“Yes, Mr. Kodzuken, sir.”

Kuroo smirks at the loud groan Kenma emits from the open bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at @ghost2ghost on twitter & tumblr


End file.
